


Letters from Plastic Beach

by ghoullly



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Father-Daughter Relationship, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 03:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 5,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11119281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoullly/pseuds/ghoullly
Summary: Murdoc sends out a message in a (rum) bottle to Noodle every morning while he's on Plastic Beach in the hopes that one day he’ll get a response.





	1. 3 November, 2009

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a huge sucker for Murdoc and Noodle's father-daughter relationship. Forgive me if Murdoc is out of character at all; I'm trying really hard I swear lol

Dearest Noodle,

How have you been doing? I hope this letter reaches you somehow. (I hope the last drops of the rum on the inside of this bottle haven’t ruined the paper either...) It’s been a hellish four years without you. Russel and Dentface left me after you, ah, disappeared, heartbroken and drowning in their own tears, yes. Rus went back home to Brooklyn and wouldn’t answer any of my calls, and I couldn’t find 2D so I visited his mum’s house, and guess what?--the dullard was in  _ Beirut!  _ Left behind his phone and everything so nobody could ring him. I tracked him down good and hauled him right out to Plastic Beach! You’d love it here, I think. It’s hot pink. Took quite a bit of spray paint and I couldn’t get the smell out of my nose for weeks afterward.

Russel is on his way here, I think. Maybe. I’m not too sure on anything anymore; my schedule’s so jam-packed with meetings with collaborators for a new album, broadcasting radio shows, and many other things that I can’t keep my old head straight anymore. Yes, Gorillaz is in the middle of producing yet another album! ...Odd, I know. It’s difficult with half of the band gone, don’t get me wrong. We’ve got drum machines and other means of making similar sounds to you and Russel. But no worries, love, the second you bust down the door, we’ll be up and ready to boot all of our alternative sounds to your legendary shredding and you’ll be back in business! I don’t want to disclose where we are because I don’t want this bottle to fall into the wrong hands and get the lifeline of Gorillaz wiped off of the face of this Earth for good. I’ve got 2D under lock and key to make sure he doesn’t get swept into the tide or stolen in the dead of night or any other weird scenario. Gorillaz is in a really shaky place right now. I fear that if anything were to happen to the two of us, it wouldn’t be able to go on.

Of course, you parachuted right off of that island, so if our poor bassist and singer do wind up being offed right here in our safe haven, you can track down Russel and talk about the future of Gorillaz. I wouldn’t imagine either of you would be up for continuing our legacy, but do Murdy a favor and at least consider it, okay? It’d give me a bit of closure.

I do hope you’re okay. I’m really sorry about El Mañana. That wasn’t supposed to happen. The helicopters were real that attacked you, Noodle. You’re probably thinking, “no shit they were real, I was shot,” but those helicopters were actually out to  _ hurt  _ you. That wasn’t some sort of freak accident where our hired pilots mistakenly pressed a wrong button. They’re called the Black Cloud, Noodle, and they want  _ me,  _ and they thought getting rid of you would make me vulnerable so they could finally get ahold of the man who had done them wrong. They were correct in thinking that I’d be as vulnerable as ever, but it’s not easy to get to me now. I have a means of protecting myself. Old Mud isn’t as dull as he seems, Noods. I’m still in shock over what happened with you though. I can’t sleep half the time because I’ll see your poor face, screaming and crying in fear and begging for help while we all ignored you until it was too late. It’s all my fault, and I can’t blame you if you’d hate me till your dying day. I’d hate me, too. I’m easily dislikeable. 

Ah, but, it’s been years since. We all love and miss you. Dents talks about you every day and always recalls stories from when you were younger and you two would watch zombie movies until the sun rose. Remember when we bought you that jetpack in Osaka? Your feet didn’t touch the ground for days.

I’ve got to go arrange a meeting with our first collaborator. De La Soul, you know? We’ve got them back on board with us again. That was smart of you to suggest that they rap on “Feel Good Inc.”; if it weren’t for you, this meeting wouldn’t be happening. I hope you get this bottle. Wherever you’re at, I hope you’re safe and plan on coming home soon. The vacation I let you have is getting a bit too long for my liking..

Hugs and kisses,

Murdoc


	2. 4 November, 2009

Little Noodle,

How are you? I can’t imagine the first bottle reached you after only a day. Even so, I’ll send you a bottle on the daily. The more bottles, the better chance that you’ll get at least one. I’ve got plenty of empty bottles already; even if I didn’t drink a drop until all of these bottles are used up, I’d still have enough to send you a daily letter for over a month! 

2D and I played a game of cards last night with a friend. She was really good at playing “Bullshit”; her poker face is one of the best I’ve ever seen. She’s not as good as you were, though; you’d smoke us all, remember? There’s not a whole lot to do here on old Plastic Beach. There hasn’t been a sign of Russ yet. He’ll be here eventually. ‘Till then, I’ve got that drum machine doing his job for me.

2D said to tell you hello! He also said he loves you and hopes you’ll get here soon. (I believe he said the last part to humour me, because he fights with me all the time about whether you’re alive or not. He thinks you passed away in the crash, but I know that’s not true. You’re a smart girl, so there’s no doubt in my mind that you were able to find that parachute in the windmill and jumped right off. Prove him wrong, Noodle. Come here and prove him wrong and show him that you’re alive.)

“Plastic Beach” is probably going to be the name of the album! It’s such a truly amazing place. I’m proud of it. Lots of blood, sweat, and tears went into building this place, but mostly the previous. I’d love to tell you the location, but once again, Black Cloud. Though they’re probably tailing you too, aren’t they? I’ll tell you what--find a radio somewhere. Tune into my Pirate Radio broadcasts. You’re the smartest person I know; use that noodle of yours and track my coordinations from the broadcast. Can you even do that? I’m grasping straws here, love. Find your way back. I know you can.

I’ve got more meetings today. I’ve been writing songs and I’m finding it a bit easier to do than usual. I’ve got a lot more pain this time around than I did before, I guess. It’s all from the heart--I suppose that’ll make it the best Gorillaz has ever made, yes? (Only joshing--Demon Days is likely going to be our opus, whether we make three albums or twenty. You’re a genius, kid; musical and otherwise.)

Missing you a bit more than usual. Get home safe.

Hugs and kisses, 

Murdoc


	3. 5 November, 2009

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized the error I made in the span of Plastic Beach's production. Like there's no way it would go this fast. Shhhh I'm tired lol

Sweet Noodle,

I hope your morning has been good. I had breakfast this morning with 2D in his bedroom, though he didn’t seem to happy to see me. He wouldn’t talk to me for some reason. I feel this has to do with the idea of the new album. He was up for it a couple of days ago; it’s finally set in that only the bass and vocals will be classic Gorillaz. I think he’ll come around to singing for me in a few days or so. Though I don’t eat breakfast with him often, so he should have really taken the chance to talk to me while he could. Dullard’s locked down there now because he tries to run away when he thinks I’m not paying attention. Ah, but listen, little chicken, Murdy’s got a set of eyes elsewhere, too. These eyes are much more watchful than mine and can get Faceache right back where he needs to be before I even know he’s climbed the elevator shaft. That might sound scary, locking him in and keeping him under watch and all, but he’s been a lot more jittery since your  death disappearance and I’m afraid he might be a hazard to himself. I can’t keep watch over him all the time, so if I have him somewhere safe, I can rest easy knowing that Gorillaz’ golden pipes are undamaged and well taken care of.

No Russel yet. I have no idea how he’s planning on getting here. He better hurry up though, or “Plastic Beach” won’t have a drop of his sound in it at all. Same goes with you, little girl, where are you at? I’ve been putting off recording instrumentals in the hopes that the two of you will pop up very soon... I’ll have a couple of legends on this album that are going to lend me their noise, however! No names yet. I’ll leave those as a surprise.

It’s kind of lonely out here, I hate to admit. As much as I love my plastic palace, things just aren’t the same. Dents doesn’t like to talk to me and I don’t have much company other than a collaborator every once and awhile. It’s no Kong, that’s for sure. (It’s nice without the constant scratching at the doors from zombies, though.)

It’s getting awfully hot out; if you’re anywhere around here, be careful you don’t burn. If it gets too bad it’ll blister and let me tell you, that hurts like a _bitch._ I’m not gonna be lame and tell you to wear sunscreen, though. You do you.

Please hurry up and get here. You’ve made me so sick from worrying for the past four that I’ve been getting even greener. Wait around any longer and by the time you see me again... I’m too tired to think of a comparison. I’ll just be really green. Miss and love you.

Hugs and kisses, 

Murdoc


	4. 6 November, 2009

Dear Noodle,

I’m sending this bottle a bit earlier in the morning today. The sunrise is beautiful here, so I like to try and get out to watch it whenever I can. Typically, I’m too hungover to stand until around 10, but hey, the more drinks the more bottles I’ll have to send you letters, right?

Did you know 2D has a fear of whales? I have a whale that circles the bottom half of Plastic Beach to keep an extra eye on him as well. It’s name is Massive Dick (no relation to Moby, however). Have you ever read that book,  _ Moby Dick?  _ I feel like you should. You’d probably like it. Anyway, cruel as it sounds, it keeps him in place. He’s been saying some concerning things lately. It’s kind of scaring me. You’d think being with a friend so close I’m practically family would keep some of his edge off, but he’s even more anxious than usual. I don’t want to tell him that he’s making me nervous, though. I just need him to sing for me. A caged bluebird he is, and I’ll set him free once he’s sung his song. Or fifteen. Problem is, Noodle, I’m afraid of letting him go once Plastic Beach is recorded. He’s the only one of us I have left until you and Rus come, and I’ll be even lonelier. And hell, Rus would never stay with me, let’s face it. It might not seem like it, but I care for those two, I really do. They’re like brothers to me. I’d never tell them that. I trust you, Noodle, so please don’t say anything.

No Rus. Starting to believe he’s not coming at all. That’s fine. My drum machine’s pretty good. 

I’ve written a pretty song for Plastic Beach that I think might be my favorite so far. Sounds a bit like a lullaby. No collaborators on this one, just 2D. It’s more sentimental that way, I think; got a music box sort of noise in the background. I think you’d like it. It means a lot to me. Love you, sweetheart, 2D says hi.

Kisses,

Murdoc


	5. 13 November, 2009

No o dle,

Do forgive me if my handwriting is a bit off. I’m a bit shaken, if you will . Dents  ~~ s ~~ s aw helicopters overhead this morning when I let him out, and sure enough, the Black Cloud has found us. Didn’t shoot at us, though. Left us alone for now. I think they know I’m here but don’t want to off me  ~~ jst ~~ just yet. Wanna tease me in a game of ca t ~~ n ~~ and mouse. Thas’ fine. We’ll just continue like nothing’s wrong. Old Mud  ~~ canhadn ~~ can handle it.

Gonna keep this letter sho rt though. Rushing it so I can get back inside. No Russel. 2D is talking to me today but I think it’s cus he’s scared. Murdy’s not scared, though. Just shaken.

Keep an eye on the skies, dear. If you’re anywh ~~ r ~~ ere close, I don’t want them to get you too.

I don’t like the idea of capture before I can see you again. I know you’re on your way. Follow the radios, love, listen in and let me guide you home. Stu and I’ll hold out till then.

Love, 

Mud


	6. 19 January, 2010

Dear Noodle,

It’s been a while since my last letter. I’m truly sorry. I’ve been focused on cranking out Plastic Beach and we’re just about done now; we just need a few more collaborators to do their part and we’ll jazz up a couple of bland tracks and we’ll be good to go! Might even replace those few sub-par ones, not too sure yet. I’m very upset that you never showed up to play your guitar for us. I wound up having to find another way to get the lead on the tracks. I played a few myself when our donor wasn’t feeling up to it or wasn’t doing as good. It sounds okay, but I’m made for bass, love. Would’ve much rather had you here to play it instead.

The helicopters fly over the beach the same time everyday, it’s the same routine. We’ve learned when we can’t sunbathe or swim or when I can’t send you any bottles. 2D has talked to me a lot since my last bottle. We decided that we needed a plan if the Black Cloud happens to swoop down and carry out an attack on Old Murdy. Without going into too much detail, because again, who knows who can find this bottle, we’ve got submarines. The second we’re shot at, we haul ass into these subs and get out. If we get separated somehow, we both still are set to leave in a sub. If only a fourth of Gorillaz survives, so be it. It’s better than nothing.

Russel never showed up. Fucking tosser probably never even planned on it. Whatever.

2D’s been a bit more aggressive lately, though. Swings at me and tries to bite me if I grab him to take him somewhere and hisses obscenities at me. Maybe he’s sick. He doesn’t like me very much anymore. I understand why. Like I said, I’m easily dislikeable. I’m sure you never really liked me either. I know Rus never did, because I have a break in my nose to prove it.

Things are getting tense here on Plastic Beach. Eagerly awaiting your reply.

Murdoc


	7. 4 March, 2010

Sweet Noodle,

You know, I’m beginning to think that Stuart was always right. Where are you? It’s almost been five years without you. We miss you terribly. Surely you care about us still, right? We’re your family. Please don’t forget about us. We love you too much.

Plastic Beach is done. It’s out, if you’d like to give it a listen. I wrote a few of those songs on there with your accident in mind. They’re disguised as sappy old love songs, you know? Really threw a monkey wrench in the tabloid business. They can’t figure out what the hell the lyrics mean and they’re having an even harder time pinning a label on me, can’t figure out if I’m in love or on drugs or what. Truth is, Noodle, I’m neither. Just grieving. Quite a few lyrics were red herrings, you see. I’d write love songs but throw in a lyric or two that didn’t fit the song at all, and all it did was confuse the shit out of everyone. They’re lyrics about you, little Noodle, and how badly Stu and I miss you. “On Melancholy Hill” has a few of these if you listen. “To Binge” does, too. People in the music business tend to either only take a track for surface value or they dig too deep. Sometimes the truth is caught in between.

I’m going to stop bringing up Russel until he shows up. He’s not going to, so I don’t want to get your hopes up when you read his name, if you get any of these.

Please come home, pumpkin. Don’t let Stu be right. Still holding out. Black Cloud hasn’t attacked yet. I feel like they will any day now. Please reply.

Love, 

Murdoc

 


	8. 9 March, 2010

Princess Noodle,

Ha, remember when you were introduced as the Asian Axe Princess? What a badass title that was. Just thought I’d start this letter out with a bit of nostalgia as all.

Plastic Beach is selling off the shelves, but I can hardly celebrate. I can’t sleep. I really killed you, didn’t I? You trusted me to help you take a quiet leave but instead I let you die from that bomb, if the initial crash didn’t kill you first. It’s all my fault, sweetheart. I hope your sweet little soul never forgives me. I deserve it. Hey, maybe if Rus ever shows up, he can channel you and you can talk to us through him! Really let me have it then. Haunt me ‘till my dying day, if that’s what you want. I won’t complain a single time.

I’m so sorry, Noodle. I hope I’m not right. I hope you’re on your way to me now, back to your father, back to your brother, back to your home. You aren’t responding because the currents are sweeping the bottles out of your way or sucking them under the sea or are just flat-out being found by someone else. You’re on your way home. I’ll broadcast a bit more so you can track them again. I haven’t held a radio show in a while; I haven’t made you lose your way, have I? I just keep messing up one way after another.

Stuart talks about you every day. He has your little remote controlled monkey from when you were a little girl in his room with him. Once in a blue moon he’ll turn it on and I’ll hear the noise down the elevator shaft and the sound will trick me--only for a moment--into thinking that you’re here. You’re downstairs playing with toys that are so old that they’re starting to rot, like you were ten again, and that everything was okay. ~~Then I remember that I watched you die~~ No, I didn’t watch you die. You’re safe and sound somewhere, maybe with a guardian that will raise the rest of your adolescence better than we ever did. We were such bad influences. Why’d we put a bong rip in “Left Hand Suzuki Method”? We should’ve left you ignorant to those sorts of things, but we were stupid and didn’t think. (Once again, that was mostly me...)

Miss you terribly. It makes my chest ache. I feel like both mine and Stu’s hearts will balloon out any second. Come home.

Love,

Dad


	9. 21 March, 2010

Sweet Pea,

We miss you. Come home soon. Love you.

Hugs and kisses,

Dad


	10. 27 March, 2009

Pumpkin,

Stuart’s getting jittery again. I’m afraid he’s going to hurt himself. I can’t get myself out of bed half the time and the phone is ringing off the hook with interviewers and venue owners and radio hosts but I can’t bring myself to answer. I’ll have to soon or else they’ll suspect something’s up but I’d rather not. It’s like El Mañana hit me all at once over the past few days. It’s really sunken in this time. You’re probably gone. I killed you. I was trying to kill someone that was a threat to you and I wound up being no better in the end. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I made a fatal, fatal mistake and I’ll have to live with it forever.

Sorry.

Murdoc


	11. 14 April, 2010

Chickpea,

We’re set to go on tour in October. I’d love it if you could play lead for us. Just let me know. Stu says hello like always.

Love, 

Dad


	12. 17 April, 2010

Poppet,

I’ve been thumbing through some old photos recently. Have you ever done that, just sit down for an hour or two and look at pictures from when you were younger? Probably not. We only got to have you around for five years; it probably never even crossed your mind. That’s understandable.

Anyway, I have a couple of albums I saved from Kong before it was torched. Real sentimental stuff. If there’s one thing Russ did right, it was take loads of pictures of you as you were growing up. There’s pictures of all four of us brushing our teeth in the mornings on tour, pictures from when you tried to cut your own hair and Stu tried to fix it but made it worse--remember that? You looked like you’d set your head on fire! Thank Satan for your little radio helmet. Oh, I have that too. For some reason, most of your stuff from Kong had survived the fire. Odd.

But Noodle, listen, I wouldn’t remember most of the things happening in these pictures if they weren’t right in front of me. Do you remember when your front tooth was loose and bothering you, so Stu and I tied it to a hungry Cortez’s ankle and threw a hunk of meat out the fucking window? You had blood all over your chin but the smile you had on your face was priceless. Then there’s pictures of you trying to teach me how to play that damn Pokeman game that weekend you were sick in bed with the flu, and I couldn’t grasp what the hell I was supposed to do. Pictures of you with those weird virtual pets you used to like, with one dangling off of every finger. Christmas morning for every year you were ours, with so many presents in the foyer that you could hardly wade through it all and had no idea where to start. Pictures of you fallen asleep in all three of our laps, of when we made blanket forts, of when you’d let Cortez sit on your shoulder when you’d eat cereal in the mornings or when you’d insist Russel would have to braid your hair after you had a shower or when you and Stu would paint your nails together and watch the Powerpuff Girls. We have pictures of _everything_ and every picture hurts just a bit worse than the last.

I hate to say it, but your father’s losing hope in you, Noodle. I think you might actually be gone. I keep convincing myself that you’re okay but then a few days later I’m absolutely sure that you’re long, long gone, and we’re all just trying to keep this dream called Gorillaz alive when it’s completely pointless. It’s not Gorillaz without our axe princess.

It hurts to swallow. I think I’m going to see what Stu is up to. I had to stop him from hurting himself the other day. We need to get off this island. Love you.

Hugs and kisses,

Dad


	13. 23 April, 2010

Noodle,

I think Plastic Beach is a requiem. Your requiem, the requiem of Noodle. Perhaps that should have been inspiration for the title instead. “Noodle’s Requiem”. Or maybe “Noodle’s Lullaby”? Ah, I think I like the last one better. A set of songs to sing you to sleep; to bring your aching little soul to rest after you burned out in a blaze too hot for any of us to bear. An album to guide your childish spirit home so you can finally be at peace.

It’s far too late now, I suppose. Shame.

Love,

Dad


	14. 28 April, 2010

Noodle,

I don’t know why I’m telling you this, because what child likes to see their  ~~ par ~~ guardian upset, but Stu saw me cry for the very first time in his life today. He cried with me, though, so he can’t hold anything against me. I had brought up the idea of a funeral service or something of the sort. He agreed and said it sounded nice, gives us a bit of closure, but we have no idea when that would be. Stu said he doesn’t want it until we have Rus, but I say fuck him. If he was coming then he’d be here by now. Maybe he’s dead too. At least you’ll have one of us there with you to keep you safe in the afterlife. He’ll keep a good eye out for you. Him and Del both.

I need off of Plastic Beach. I’m so lonely, Noodle. Stu’s here and you’re indirectly here but I’ve never felt so lonely in my life. This isn’t what I signed up for when I sold my soul. There must have been fine print that I didn’t read. Oh, God, save me. This was a mistake. I should’ve never been selfish. Just performed under someone else’s direction, let myself be a puppet. I wouldn’t have ruined three people’s lives this way. I’m no better than my father was.

To whoever gets this bottle, sorry you had to read this. Just toss it in the bin; it’s unimportant to you. I’m just rambling to myself at this point.

Murdoc


	15. 2 June, 2010

Princess,

Please come home. I’m actually praying to God, SOME God, ANY God, to bring you home to us. I’m praying for a miracle. I don’t know if this is going to void my contract, but I don’t care. I’ll live the rest of my life as a born-again Christian that never strums another note if it means I can have you back. You were too young to have been stolen from us.

Love,

Dad


	16. 6 June, 2010

Noodle,

Your old man turns 44 today. All I want is your smiling face on the dock of my Plastic Beach. Thinking of you today.

Love, 

Dad


	17. 13 June, 2010

Noodle, was that you?? Sorry, sorry, should’ve had a header, a label, whatever the hell that’s called your NAME, yes that’s what it’s called. On that news broadcast! Was that you? In the cat mask?? I’d recognize that haircut anywhere; there’s only one little girl in the entire world that could pull it off. The Black Cloud’s found you, then, I presume, if that was them shooting at you? Can’t they give you a break? Being shot at for the last five years of your life. Tsk. I’ll rear all of their heads as soon as they come for me, too. Nobody lays hands on you like that.

But Noodle, love, if that was really you, then that means that you’re alive after all! Did the praying work?? I’ll deal with this later. For now, I’ve got a bit of a rescue team set up-- _ ALL  _ of Plastic Beach’s collaborators, plus Murdy and a bluebird, piling into submarines and scouring the sea for that raft you’re on! We’ll get you, Noodle, don’t worry. Once we’ve found you, we won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.

I might actually see you again today after going five years without. My throat’s closing again, I should probably go. See you later, if all goes well!

All the hugs and kisses in the world,

Dad


	18. 14 June, 2010

Dearest Noodle,

Didn’t find you yesterday. That’s okay. I know you’re out there. You’ve got experience and a gun; I don’t think the Black Cloud’s gonna take you down that easily. We’re going to get you, Noodle, don’t worry. Stu’s nervous as all hell, but he’s excited to see you too. Says to tell you that he thought your mask was really cool, and wanted me to ask, where’d you get it? He also says that he has one too, and when you two are reunited, maybe you can talk about what your masks mean? I’m a bit curious myself. Since you’re old enough to drink now, perhaps we could all chat about it over whiskey on the rocks. Wow, you’re able to drink. Seems like just a day ago you were coming into my room in the middle of the night to cry on my shoulder when you had a nightmare.

You’re okay. I really can’t believe it. We’re searching for you again, don’t worry. Just stay on that little raft of yours and let us come to you. Hopefully I’ll reach you before this bottle can.

Hugs and kisses,

Dad


	19. 15 June, 2010

Sweet Noodle,

Day 2 brought no luck! It’s alright. I’ll tirelessly sweep the ocean twice over to find you if I have to. Turn over every seashell and comb through every tide. I won’t let you slip between our fingers again that easily. Gorillaz will quite possibly be back in business if we can manage to swipe you out of the ocean and find Russel afterwards. We’re going to search every day. Even if the collaborators won’t, Stu and I will. Stay put, love. Rescue team’s on it’s way and we won’t stop ‘till you’re home safe!

Love,

Dad


	20. Undated on the Back of a Rum-Soaked Napkin, 2010

Dear Murdoc,

Thank you so much for having such weird tastes in alcohol, or else I would have never thought to grab the rum bottle I had seen floating several yards away. I am safe. I am not hurt save for a bit of shrapnel in my cheek. I found Russel. He is very big and helping protect me. We are on our way to Plastic Beach. Russ said that you have released more music? Neither of us have heard the new album yet but you and Toochii are very good at making music on your own, so there’s no doubt in my mind that it isn’t a hit. Tell him that I have made my own mask out of wood and I have carved the design in the front and painted it with acrylic. 

My stomach is turning with excitement. My head constantly hurts from the chaos but I am awaiting to return home, whether home is back in Essex or at Point Nemo. Russel says hello and that he is very mad at you? I do not know why, because he is not telling me. I am not going to think about it, though. I miss you and Toochii very badly. Did the music video come out cool at least? I hope so. It kind of hurt a little, but I have all of my limbs and I am alive, so I suppose some pain was worth it if I escaped with my life.

Yes, we can have whiskey. However, be warned, I do not have my raft any longer. I have to take refuge inside of Russel’s mouth to hide from the helicopters, so we are coming to you. I think we know the way. Be careful, as they are hovering wherever I am and I am afraid that they will find you on Plastic Beach as well. I don’t want them to attack you. My heart aches to see the two of you again. Give Toochii a hug for me until we reunite.

Thank you for looking for me. It means a lot to know that even five years after I disappeared, you still care about me. I’m glad Mr. Kyuzo chose your doorstep to mail me to. I wouldn’t have wanted to grow up with any other family, even after what we’ve all been through.

I am running out of space on this paper, as I am writing on the back of your original message, so I will stop now. We should arrive in a day or two. I love you! Tell Toochii that I said love him too. Sit tight. Watch for the helicopters and make sure they do not see you, or they will attack. We are on our way now!

Love,

ヌードル


End file.
